


The Suggestion

by Florville



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon GO
Genre: M/M, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Suit Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:28:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28472382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florville/pseuds/Florville
Summary: A sequel to "The Question."  Thanks to DarkWisteria for motivating me to get this done and dusted, because the world can always use more Willow/Spark smut ^_^
Relationships: Spark/Willow-hakase | Professor Willow
Kudos: 3





	The Suggestion

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to a comment from DarkWisteria on my fic “The Question,” I felt motivated to finish this fic up and post it as a nice way to wrap up my first year of writing Pokémon fanfic. So thanks for that…and thank you also to SirQuill, Mockingbird_22, ArgyleOwl, and CantThinkClear for leaving feedback on my work, you guys rock, and I appreciate it. Thanks also to all of the lovelies who have been leaving kudos on my other Pokémon fics…much love to you all. And Happy New Year!!

“We should totally all show up in like, evening wear.”

That one playful suggestion was what had taken Spark down the path to the current moment, where he was bent over an examination table with Willow driving into him like there was no tomorrow. But to understand how things ended up like this, a little backstory was needed…

“But the event isn’t that significant,” Blanche offered, turning in their swivel chair to look over at Spark where he was seated in front of a nearby monitor in the lab. “It’s just a low-key charity dinner to raise money for the Pokémon Center.”

“I know! That’s why it’ll be hilarious!” Spark laughed, careful to keep his voice down this time as he hit the ‘send’ button on another appraisal. Although Willow wasn’t currently in the building, the Team Leader’s last encounter with the handsome Prof had taught him to be a little more cautious about his volume level when plotting mischief with his companions.

Candela pursed her lips slightly, stirring the contents of her take-out container with the ends of her chopsticks as she turned away from her own workstation. Leaning back in her office chair, the dark-haired Team Leader gave an idle shrug. “I mean, the reason Willow invited us is that he wants the Go League to be represented at this event…and if we showed up looking dynamite, it _would_ be more likely to hit people’s social media feeds. There’s a chance that it could bring some positive attention to the League, maybe even bring in a few more new recruits for our Teams…”

“Exactly!” Spark crowed, picking up his own container of chow mein and turning in his seat to look at the other two Trainers. “We could even spring three ways for a limousine, and roll in there like rock stars. Think how much fun that’d be!”

Blanche raised one pale brow and looked to Candela, obviously unclear on what the normal parameters for “fun” were, and whether Spark’s crazy idea actually fell within them.

Smirking and washing down her mouthful of sweet and sour pork with a few gulps of Faygo Rock & Rye, Candela chuckled, shrugging a shoulder. “I dunno, I’m kinda digging it. I haven’t had an excuse to dress up for a while, and the way we’re being worked to the bone like this, I don’t know when I’m gonna get another chance.”

Spark grinned victoriously, giving a little fist pump and then looking over at the pale-haired Trainer, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously. “So, whaddya say, Blanche? You in?” 

Sighing, the Team Mystic Leader turned back around to face the computer monitor, opening another appraisal and tapping at the keyboard. “I don’t know why I let you two talk me into these crazy schemes.” 

*

On the evening of the charity event, Spark was the second one to get picked up by the limousine, and he slid into the seat across from Candela, grinning from ear to ear as the driver closed the door behind him. Or at least, he _was_ grinning, until he got a good look at his co-worker.

Candela was wearing an off-the-shoulder, split-front red maxi dress that shimmered from top to bottom with sequins, drawing the eye from one chocolate-coloured thigh all the way down to her six-inch heels. Completely unaccustomed to Candela being dressed to kill like this, Spark’s brain backfired, and his train of thought was waylaid badly enough that he forgot about the ‘Jessica Rabbit’ comment he’d been planning to make. 

“My eyes are up here, 007,” Candela remarked with a sneer, snapping her fingers at him as if she were trying to correct a recalcitrant dog.

“Sorry,” Spark laughed, cheeks colouring a little in embarrassment as he rubbed at the nape of his neck. “Didn’t expect you to clean up so nice, is all.”

Candela snorted. “How gracious. You win Willow over with that charm, or what?”

The blonde snickered. “Nah, he just heard I had a gigantic dick and the rest was history. So, do you think Blanche is in a dress or a suit tonight?”

“Good question,” Candela mused, still smirking as she rummaged in the mini bar and poured a glass of champagne, handing it to Spark before pouring one for herself. “If I was gonna place bets, based on what they usually wear, I’d say some sort of suit…but like…one that’s not super masculine.”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” Spark replied with a nod, taking a deep pull at his champagne glass and licking his lips.

“You clean up nice, too,” Candela nodded towards Spark’s tuxedo, smirking at him over the rim of her glass. “Willow’d better watch out, or he’s gonna have competition.”

One blonde brow shot up at that. “From you?”

In mid-sip, the Team Valor Leader sputtered and almost shot champagne out her nostrils. Making a dismissive gesture with one hand, Candela held the flute to one side so she didn’t risk spilling it on her dress as she coughed. “Fucking hell…in your _wildest_ wet dreams, Romeo.”

Spark grinned, shrugging a shoulder. “Hey, you just got finished telling me how good I look, so—”

“Yeah, and don’t let it go to your head, Team In-Stink,” Candela interjected, smiling again as she shook her head. “I meant that there’ll probably be a few eligible singles at the charity event tonight who might’ve had enough booze to make a knuckle-dragger like you easier on the eyes.”

“Oh, thanks,” Spark returned, acting hurt. “You know, I’m never going to finish working through my self-esteem problems in therapy if you keep abusing me like this.”

“Uh-huh,” she mused, carefully taking another sip of her champagne. “As if you’re going to complain about not being able to spend more time lying on a couch.”

“Touché.”

Both Team Leaders looked up as the limousine pulled to the curb in front of another house, and a wry grin curved Candela’s lips as the pale-haired Trainer emerged from within, locking the front door and approaching the limousine. “Called it.”

Dressed in a midnight blue suit and matching silk bow tie that still managed to be somewhat feminine, Blanche nodded to the driver, who’d just opened the rear door so that the tall Trainer could climb in. “Thank you.”

“Evening, Blanche,” Spark called out as his lithe co-worker slid into the seat next to Candela. 

“Good evening,” Blanche said by way of reply, nodding to Candela as well. “You look very elegant, Candela.”

“Aww, thanks. And you look like Stormé DeLarverie.”

An uncharacteristic smile curved the Team Mystic Leader’s lips. “Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

Spark blinked, looking from Blanche to Candela and back again. “Who?”

Candela groaned and rolled her eyes heavenward. “Jesus, Spark, you’re a guy who has sex with men and you don’t even know who Stormé DeLarverie was?”

Pouting, the Team Instinct Leader shook his head sheepishly, then looked over at Blanche with a hopeful expression.

Leaning back against the seat, Blanche continued to smile, their tone matter-of-fact as they explained. “Stormé DeLarverie was a lesbian drag performer who was instrumental in starting the Stonewall Riots.”

“Oh,” Spark murmured. “Was she the one who got roughed up by the cops and yelled at the crowd to do something about it?”

At the question, Candela relaxed, apparently relieved. “Yeah, that’s what a lot of people say.” Handing a glass of champagne to Blanche, she met Spark’s eyes, her own dark ones holding a touch of approval. “See? I knew you weren’t as dumb as you look.”

Snorting and finishing off his glass of champagne, Spark pouted and gave a long-suffering sigh. “You know, I’m really gonna have to talk to my union rep about this hostile work environment.”

“We have union reps?” Blanche murmured, pale brows furrowing in confusion when both of her companions burst out laughing. 

*  
The parking lot at the local Pokémon Centre had been converted into an outdoor venue just for the charity dinner, with a large canvas pavilion tent occupying the centre of the lot, the sides left open to the cool evening air. A small podium had been set up at one end for speakers to address the crowd, and at the other end, a series of long tables supported a full spread of various foods, laid out in gleaming silver heating trays. The majority of those who had shown up were local Pokémon enthusiasts and researchers from nearby institutions, all clad in varying styles of casual and business-casual attire.

Willow, who had helped to organize (and was technically hosting) the event, was clad in beige dress pants, a comfortable pair of dress shoes, and a black turtleneck sweater that clung to his upper body like a second skin. His dark-rimmed glasses, usually resting on top of his head, were settled on the bridge of his nose, giving him the friendly but professional air that the event seemed to call for. At the moment, he was giving Nurse Joy a quick run-down for the order of the speakers who’d take the podium once the attendees had finished serving themselves.

When a black stretch limousine turned into the parking lot, Willow quirked one salt-and-pepper brow and watched as the vehicle slowed to a stop, wondering if perhaps the driver was lost. Many of the guests at the event had also paused in their conversations to gaze over at the elegant vehicle, most likely wondering the same thing. However, when the driver stepped out and went around to open one of the rear doors, an excited buzz of hushed chatter went through the canvas tent, and the attendees murmured back and forth to one another about which celebrity might possibly emerge from the vehicle.

Willow’s eyes widened behind his glasses when he saw all three of his Team Leaders step out of the limo, decked out from head to toe in formal evening wear. Blanche, who stepped out first, looked like they’d been plucked out of the audience for a final episode of Ru Paul’s _Drag Race,_ and Candela, who was close on her heels, appeared to be channeling Diana Ross and the Supremes in her form-fitting, sparkling red dress and matching heels. And Spark…

…well, Spark looked like he’d just walked off the cover of GQ magazine. With a crisp white dress shirt, a black silk bow tie, black slacks, patent leather shoes, and a black tuxedo jacket that fit the shape of his body perfectly, the young man looked like he was on his way to the Inaugural Ball. And to round out the ensemble, he was wearing a pair of white dress gloves.

When Nurse Joy cleared her throat and gave him an expectant look, Willow flushed and smiled awkwardly, trying to pick up the broken fragments of his thoughts so he could finish going over the order of the night’s speakers.

While the revelation that the limo’s occupants weren’t celebrities had quieted the initial buzz that had gone through the crowd, the fact that all three of Willow’s Team Leaders had shown up in such splendid attire had kept them in high spirits. Blanche, Candela, and Spark were immediately surrounded and asked to pose for countless selfies with the event’s attendees, and it was a good twenty minutes before the three were able to get anywhere near the refreshment tables. Fortunately, Nurse Joy took the podium and encouraged everyone to take their seats, and the three were able to duck away from the crowd in time to hurriedly fill their plates before sitting down.

Slipping into one of the three seats at a round table that had been reserved for the Team Leaders, Spark let out an explosive breath as he sat down with his plate and his champagne glass. “Whoo! Now I know why actors and actresses are so damn skinny,” he laughed.

Sitting down in the seat to the left of him, Candela snickered. “Right?! I thought I was gonna have to land a pump kick just to get anywhere near the table!”

“Shh,” Blanche hushed them, motioning towards the podium with a jerk of their chin as they took the seat across the table from Spark and Candela. “The speeches are starting.”

Spark snorted, leaning towards Candela and speaking under his breath. “Whaddya wanna bet Blanche was a hall monitor in elementary school?”

Candela snickered, elbowing him lightly in the arm as Nurse Joy cleared her throat and began to introduce the first speaker.

The three Team Leaders picked away at their meals as the speakers gave their short toasts and thank-yous to all of the donors and the people who were in attendance that evening. As Willow came up to the podium to deliver some concluding remarks, Spark paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, then lowered it.

Noticing the way Spark was gazing up at the stage, Candela snickered, kicking him lightly under the table.

“Ow!” Spark hissed, turning his head and glaring at her. “What the hell was that for?”

“You were about to start drooling on the tablecloth, loverboy,” she snickered, speaking under her breath so Blanche wouldn’t shush them.

“Tch,” Spark scoffed, reaching for his champagne glass and taking a long pull at the contents, pouting a little when he lowered it. “S’not my fault he dresses so everybody knows he’s stacked. And I know what’s _under_ that sweater, so it’s way worse for me.”

“You mean way better,” Candela corrected with a smirk.

The blonde snickered. “Well…yeah.”

As Willow concluded his speech, the three Team Leaders joined the rest of the crowd in applauding for their supervisor, and Spark sighed as he watched the Professor returning to the table where he’d been seated. “Man, I hope I look that good when I’m his age.”

“You don’t even look good now,” Candela jumped in, laughing when Spark pretended to be hit by a bullet and made a big show of falling out of his chair.

Blanche rolled their eyes, deciding that now was as good a time as any to go and get dessert, leaving their two companions to engage in silliness on their own.

Watching as Spark climbed back into his seat, Candela leaned her chin on one hand, raising a brow slightly. “You realise you’re gonna get it tonight, right?” she prodded with a wry smirk.

“Huh?” Spark blinked at her, looking up from where he’d been smoothing out the front of his dress shirt.

“Willow’s eyeing you like you’re a goddamn porterhouse steak,” she purred, nodding her head in the scholar’s direction. “Look.” 

Blinking, Spark glanced over at the Professor, one brow rising when Willow immediately averted his gaze and pretended to be absorbed in the conversation going on at his table.

“Must be the tux,” Candela remarked with a snicker, taking a slow pull at her champagne glass.

“Huh…must be,” Spark murmured. “Isn’t that something?”

Candela’s eyes narrowed in almost catlike amusement. “Am I gonna get pictures again?”

A devious grin curved Spark’s lips as he set his knife and fork down and reached out to pick up his champagne glass, swirling the contents around idly as his blue eyes sparkled. “Well…I _do_ owe him some payback for sending that first one, don’t I?”

“Absolutely,” the Team Valor leader agreed.

“Horndog.”

She snorted. “Can you blame me?”

“Nah. I ship us too.”

As a small group of local musicians took the stage, Spark pushed his plate back on the table and grinned at his companion. “Well, that’s enough dinner conversation for one night! I’m gonna go mingle.”

“Just can’t get enough of all the ladies wanting selfies with you, huh?” Candela jabbed with an amused smile.

Spark grinned, reaching up to ‘adjust’ his bow tie as if he were James Bond. “Hey, I’m just here to support Willow and promote Team Instinct. If my adoring public is all over me while I’m doing that, I can’t really help it, can I?”

“Uh-huh,” the Team Valor leader snorted, shaking her head. 

Darting into the crowd before Candela could line him up for another verbal blow, Spark almost ran headlong into Nurse Joy, managing to egg her into a quick dance before succumbing to the throng that was crowding around him for more “dab” selfies.

Having recently finished his meal, Willow watched his assistant cavorting with some of the donors, eyes narrowing slightly behind the lenses of his glasses. The memory of how Spark had looked laid out on the ground underneath him suddenly flashed through his mind unbidden, and the Professor drew a slow breath before rising to his feet. Weaving through the crowd with the grace of a Rapidash, Willow slipped in front of an eager young woman who was about to ask Spark to take a photo with her, catching the Trainer firmly by the elbow and squeezing hard as he spoke to him in a low voice.

“May I have a word?”

Spark caught his breath at the contact, blinking at Willow for a moment before nodding nervously. “Uh, yeah, sure thing, Willow.” Politely excusing himself a split second before the Professor pulled him towards the Pokémon Center, the Team Instinct Leader felt a surge of nervousness course through his body. That nearly-painful squeeze on his arm and the tension in Willow’s posture as they headed towards the empty building didn’t seem like good news…in fact, he was pretty sure that the Prof was pissed at him. Was it because the Team Leaders had drawn too much attention, and maybe taken people’s minds off of what the event was really supposed to be about?

_Shit,_ Spark thought as he was led into the building through the front door, cringing like a boy on his way to detention as the Professor headed directly for an examination room in the rear. Gasping and staggering when he was shoved unceremoniously through the door, Spark whirled around and blinked at Willow in surprise as the man closed and locked the door behind them. “Jeez, Willow, what the hell?!”

Silently, the Professor turned and fixed his assistant with an intense glare, reaching up to remove his glasses and setting them down carefully on the desk. 

That look immediately quieted the younger male, and he bit his lower lip, gloved fingers curling against his palms. A moment later, Spark yelped when Willow grabbed him by the lapels, swinging him around and slamming him back against the door so hard his teeth rattled. The Prof’s mouth slanted over his own, and Spark’s tongue was immediately engaged in a kiss so deep and urgent that it bordered on being desperate. And the hard-on digging into his hip was even more so.

Drawing short, stuttering breaths through his nose, Spark returned the kiss eagerly, his entire body responding to the aggressive advance as he slid his gloved hands up Willow’s firm chest. The thought that he could get the mild-mannered Professor so wound up immediately had him harder than hell, and the fact that he’d managed to do it in the middle of an event the man was hosting gave a delightfully satisfying stroke to his ego.

When a hand grabbed roughly at his crotch, Spark gasped, hissing against Willow’s lips and whimpering when the Professor refused to relinquish his mouth, yanking his fly open and shoving a hand inside. All of the composure the older man had demonstrated the first time they’d been together was nowhere to be found…this time, it had been replaced by a hot, animalistic lust. Spark was distantly aware of the sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor as his pants dropped to his ankles, but it may as well have been a noise that was worlds away, because the only thing he could focus on right now was the thrust of Willow’s tongue in his mouth and the strokes of the fingers kneading him roughly through his bright yellow briefs.

Finally managing to pull away from the kiss to gasp for air, Spark made a strangled noise when Willow’s lips immediately went to a sensitive spot on the side of his throat, the sensation of teeth digging into his skin making his cock jump against the Prof’s working hand. “Shit, Willow, what’s gotten into you?” he panted, his breath hitching in his throat when the older man snapped his hips forward, driving his hard-on forcefully against his thigh.

“What do you think?” Willow growled. “You walked into a garden-variety charity event dressed like you’re going to the Academy Awards, and then I had to sit there and watch you walking around flirting with random patrons for over _two hours_.” Grabbing Spark’s wrist, he shoved the blonde’s gloved hand down between them and ground the bulge in the front of his pants against it. “How did you _think_ I was going to react?”

The Team Instinct leader groaned wantonly, pushing the heel of his hand greedily against the stiff rise in the material and swallowing hard, his blue eyes heavy-lidded and addled with lust as he met the Professor’s hungry gaze. “Um…I thought you were gonna lecture me for being over-dressed?”

“Moron,” Willow growled, leaning in and sliding his tongue over the mark he’d left on Spark’s throat, shuddering as the young Team Leader made a startled croaking noise and jerked his hips into the Professor’s groping hand.

Spark shuddered in ecstasy at the feel of teeth digging into the side of his neck, the subtle scent of the Professor’s aftershave caressing his senses. “Willow—Willow, please…as much as I’d love for you to fuck my brains out right this second, this isn’t exactly the middle of nowhere—” he gasped when Willow shoved his briefs down further and then started to palm his balls.

“I’m well aware of that,” the older man growled.

“—and the tuxedo’s rented.”

“I thought as much.”

The Team Instinct Leader mewed as Willow tugged his own pants open and then thrust his thick, bare shaft against Spark’s abdomen, the rigid flesh smearing a trail of precum against his skin, just under the hem of the dress shirt. “Willow—”

“Spark,” the Professor cut him off, pressing in close against the younger man’s body. Panting heavily, he turned his head, his voice rough as he spoke directly into his assistant’s ear. “…I choose you.”

The blonde froze, his cock immediately twitching and swelling against the Professor’s hip. “Gh…goddamn it, Willow!” he groaned, shuddering and gritting his teeth. “I can’t believe you just turned that shit around on me!”

The Professor smirked unrepentantly against Spark’s ear. “It’s not my fault you set the ultimatum,” he purred.

Making a low noise of desire, Spark pushed at Willow’s chest with one gloved hand and tried to shove the other one between them so he could take hold of the older man’s shaft. “Let me—”

“No,” the Professor grunted, “I don’t have the patience for that.” Stepping back, he pointed at the examination table. “Bend over the table and spread your legs.”

_Damn, I love it when he’s assertive,_ Spark mused, swallowing hard as he pushed away from the door, taking a few steps on legs that were as shaky as a newborn Ponyta’s. “Lube, though?”

“I pocketed a bunch of those little butter packs that came with the dinner rolls.”

The Team Leader burst out laughing as he stretched his clothed torso out on the surface of the examination table, spreading his legs as wide as the pants around his ankles would let him. “Jeez, you really _do_ want it bad.”

“I thought that was evident,” Willow muttered as he smeared the aforementioned substance onto his throbbing erection, dropping the empty containers into the trash bin and wiping his hands clean on some paper towels. Turning a heated gaze on his companion, the Professor closed the distance between himself and Spark in two strides. “And you wouldn’t believe the sleight of hand it took to pocket them without anyone noticing.”

“I dunno, Willow, I’ve seen those Master Balls in your collection,” Spark teased as he tried to glance back over one shoulder. “Telling me you’ve got skilled hands at this point doesn’t really impress me.”

Pressing the head of his shaft against Spark’s opening, Willow shoved inward without preparation, relishing the blonde’s stuttering gasp of surprise. Bending over him so his lips were hovering just above Spark’s ear, the Professor let out a low purr. “You noticed those, did you?” He gave a sharp snap of his hips, shivering in delight when Spark squeaked and tightened around him with a low whimper. Resting his forehead against the back of his assistant’s head, he drew halfway out of the blonde’s tight passage and plunged back in again. “Perhaps if you’re a good boy and you stay quiet, I’ll show you my trick shot.”

Body humming with pleasure as he tried to stay relaxed around Willow’s thick length, Spark couldn’t help a breathy groan at the words. “Shit, Willow, did you just talk sexy? Because if so, I seriously gotta wear this thing more often.”

“You’ll be lucky if I don’t leave you with a dry cleaning bill that’ll make another rental next to impossible,” the Professor growled, grabbing Spark’s shoulders and starting to drive into him with forceful, jarring thrusts.

Spark’s witty comeback died on his lips as Willow speared him open, their flesh slapping together loudly enough that anyone standing in the lobby could have heard them. He’d forgotten how strong the older man was…although with every slam of his hips, he was reminded of the value of _not_ skipping leg day. “Willow…fuck!!” he panted, his gloved hands slipping on the smooth surface of the examination table as he scrabbled for purchase, finally managing to grab onto the edge of the table.

The sound of their harsh, panting breaths was accompanied by a dull rattling noise as Willow’s steady thrusting jostled the small cupboard doors of the examination table, and Spark gripped the edge of the table harder as the Professor kept driving into his ass with hungry, punishing strokes. A startled cry escaped Spark’s throat when the Prof’s bare fingers curled tightly around his aching length, and Willow started pumping his shaft rapidly in his fist. “Ah!! “Ah, Willow, fuck yes,” he panted, twitching his hips helplessly under the larger man’s weight. The roughness of the whole encounter had gotten him so worked up that he was already close, and it wasn’t long before he was pressing his forehead against the table, crying out as he came into the Professor’s pumping hand.

Clenching his teeth, Willow kept stroking him, shuddering as the Trainer’s passage clamped down on him. Already close, he wrapped an arm around the Spark’s neck, his breaths hot against the younger man’s ear as his thrusting grew quick and erratic. “Spark,” he panted, clenching his teeth as his sacs started to tighten. “Spark…”

“Do it,” the Trainer rasped, swallowing hard against the arm barred across his throat. “Blow your load inside me.”

Shuddering at the lewd request, Willow uttered a low growl, giving a few more jarring thrusts and then arching onto his toes as he came, pressing Spark’s body hard against the edge of the examination table as his release surged out into the younger man’s passage. 

Panting for breath as a bead of sweat ran down the side of his face, Willow rested his forehead against the back of Spark’s shoulder, the heat of the blonde’s body radiating up through the material of the tuxedo jacket. As he stood there with one forearm braced on the examination table, the Professor felt a gentle touch against the top of his head, and he looked up to see that Spark was reaching back over his left shoulder to stroke his hair. Smirking, he shifted his arms so that they were curled under Spark’s chest in an embrace, and he rested his chin in the crook of the younger man’s neck. 

A happy purr passed Spark’s lips when the older man hugged him, and he stroked the Professor’s pale locks and the side of his face with one gloved hand. “Damn, Willow…you rocked me,” he mumbled, laughing softly.

The Professor chuckled in response to the comment, his heart still pounding as he held the Team Instinct leader in his arms, his shaft slowly softening inside of him. “Hmm.”

Spark snorted. “That’s all you gotta say?? ‘Hmm’?”

Willow chuckled again, shaking his head. “What, am I supposed to brag about my performance?”

“You sure as hell could, if you wanted to,” the Team Leader replied. “I mean shit, do the other Professors know you’re this good in bed?”

Blinking, Willow lifted his head, arms slipping out from around Spark as he pushed himself up. “Not that I’m aware of,” he confessed, then frowned a little. “And that isn’t really something I’d want to get around the scholarly community, anyway.”

Spark snorted, looking lazily over his shoulder as the Professor’s softening shaft slid free of his passage, trailing a little bit of cum along the underside of one of his ass cheeks. “Why? What’s wrong with everybody knowing you’re a stud?”

Cheeks flushing a little as he went over to the sink and dampened some paper towels so he could clean himself up, Willow cleared his throat softly. “Being respected for the quality of my research is more important to me than being fawned over for something like that.”

Quirking a brow as he watched the Professor clean up and tuck himself back into his pants, Spark smiled at him affectionately. “You’re great, Willow,” he sighed. “You know that, right?”

Blinking at his subordinate as the young man lifted himself off of the table and reached down to tug up his briefs, Willow quirked a brow. “Why is that?”

“I dunno…you just…know what makes you…you. You’ve got so much that you _could_ brag about, but you don’t…you just use all your strengths to help other people and Pokémon, and you never really make a big deal out of any of it.”

Humbled by the praise, Willow cleared his throat and blushed a little, picking up his glasses and putting them back on. “Thank you, Spark.” Noticing the splatter of cum that had dripped down the side of the examination table onto the floor, he grunted softly. “Ah…we should probably clean up this mess, or Nurse Joy will never let me in here for consultations ever again.”

Spark snickered and shook his head, bending down to pull his pants up and moving over to the desk, leaning against it for support as he did up his fly. “You have fun with that,” he replied. “I think I’ve put this rented tuxedo in enough danger for one night.”

The Professor snorted in amusement, shaking his head as he opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of cleaning solution. Tearing some paper towels off of the nearby roll, he crouched to wipe the side of the examination table clean, then mopped up the spatters of cum that had landed on the floor, as well.

Pulling his cell phone out of the inside pocket of his jacket, Spark snapped a photo, resolving to send it to Candela later…probably along with a text saying _Daddy cleaning up my mess._ Pocketing the phone again, Spark tucked his dress shirt back into his pants, smoothing it out and doing up the front button on his jacket. “I’m gonna head back outside…it’d probably look suspicious if we both come out at the same time.”

“Undoubtedly,” the Professor grunted, dumping the soiled paper towels into the trash can and pulling the bag out, knotting it and setting it aside so he could open a clean trash bag and curl it around the rim of the garbage can. “Thank you for coming tonight, by the way.”

Opening his mouth to rag on Willow for the ‘coming’ part, Spark stopped himself before saying it, and offered up a genuine smile. “No problem. You know Candy, Blanche and I are always here to support you.”

Picking up the knotted garbage bag and rising to his feet, Willow returned the smile, the faint crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes gathering slightly behind the lenses of his glasses. “I know. And I appreciate it.”

Feeling his heart miss a beat at that kindly expression, Spark gazed at the older man for a long moment before stepping forward and pressing a gentle kiss against his lips, lifting a gloved hand to stroke the side of the Professor’s face.

Surprised but obviously pleased by the gesture, Willow leaned into the kiss, deepening it for a few delicious moments before drawing back. His dark brown eyes held a hint of amusement as he nodded towards the door. “Get going, before the rumour mill does.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Spark grumbled, turning and unlocking the door, heading towards the front entrance while Willow headed towards the back.

Stepping out into the cool evening air, the Team Instinct Leader leaned against the front doors of the Pokémon Center for a good minute before making his way back towards the canvas tent to rejoin his companions. Dragging his feet like he’d just run a marathon in the blazing sun, Spark slumped into his seat, letting his head loll back against the back of the chair as his arms sagged on either side of his body. “Ffffffffuuuuuuck,” he groaned.

“And where have _you_ been?” Candela inquired coyly, her chocolate eyes glittering.

“In the Pokémon Centre. Duh.”

“Oh? I thought you were up to date on your shots,” the brunette teased.

“Very funny,” Spark muttered, his adam’s apple bobbing along the smooth column of his throat as he swallowed, his mouth still a little dry from his fuck session with Willow.

“You never answered the question, Tuxedo Mask.”

“Hnnnngh,” the blonde groaned, his brow furrowing like that of a child being woken up early when it wasn’t a school day. “Why you gotta be such a horndog?” Lolling his head to one side, he cracked his eyes open and saw Candela looking at him with an expectant and unrepentant grin, and one corner of his own mouth kicked up into a smirk in spite of himself. “ _Yes,_ Willow just fucked my brains out,” he declared, letting his head loll back again and closing his eyes. “Satisfied?” 

“Obviously not as much as you,” she retorted, swirling her champagne in the bottom of the glass.

Spark snickered. “Well…yeah.”

“You kinda smell like his aftershave now,” Candela observed with an amused smile.

Spark smirked, then snickered. “Yeah, and my asshole probably smells like popcorn.”

“What?”

“Never mind,” Spark chuckled. “Some secrets, 007 will never reveal.”

“Someday, I’ll ingest enough alcohol to make listening to the two of you more bearable,” Blanche muttered.

“No time like the present, Team Piss-stick!” Spark quipped, lifting his head and grinning at his pale-haired companion.

Blanche stared at him for a long moment, narrowed their eyes, and looked to Candela for a long moment before looking back to Spark. “Spark.”

“Yes, darling?” the blonde purred, raising one brow coyly.

“I believe I should take a page from Candela’s book, and tell you to ‘go fuck yourself.’”

Candela let out a whoop of enjoyment, and Spark raised his glass of champagne in a toast. “And _that_ , my friends, is how the Go League wraps up a perfect evening.”

THE END


End file.
